


And So This is Christmas

by reedyas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reedyas/pseuds/reedyas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa doesn't like Christmas in Los Angeles one bit, and it is always hard being away from home around the holidays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And So This is Christmas

“If I have to hear that Paul McCartney song one more time…” Sansa muttered under her breath, heels clicking as she walked out of the hotel ballroom and onto the small outdoor patio. Christmas in Los Angeles was not Christmas. There was supposed to be at least six inches of snow, a roaring fire in the fire place, pajamas all around, and Mom’s hot cocoa. Bran would want to watch _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ and Arya would sneakily try to insert _Elf_ into the DVD player –

No. She would not let herself think about that.

Instead, she was stuck in Los Angeles, where today’s high temperature was 81 degrees and sunny. And the Lannister’s Christmas Eve Ball was in full swing. Cersei has commissioned a dress just for her, a beautiful long sleeved mini dress that glittered gold under chandelier lights. Unfortunately, it was too short for her liking and felt rather exposed throughout the whole night. Her pantyhose had a run and her pumps were giving her blisters. The wine she had been sipping at all night was getting to her head, and she was starting to feel slightly sick.

Gripping the cool railing, she stifled a sob. LA sparkled through the smog, the lights dull and flickering. She wanted apple cider, dingy old ornaments, and chipped china. She wanted Frank Sinatra and the Vince Guaraldi Trio in the background instead of Christina Aguilera and Mariah Carey. She wanted home.

“Did the little bird not get what she want for Christmas?” a deep voice rasped next to her. 

Sansa gasped. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you sir. If Joffrey’s looking for me, tell him I’ll be in in a minute,” she replied.

“I'm not a sir," Sandor Clegane muttered. "Don't worry, tonight is my night off."

“Why are you even here then?” Sansa asked, looking up at him.

He unscrewed a flask and gulped down a sip, the unscarred side of his face closest to hers. He leaned against the railing, practically sitting on it. “It’s pretty much in the job description that I attend every Lannister function.”

“Oh.” Sansa could feel warmth emitting through the leather jacket he wore. “Can I have a sip? Please?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at her. “Well, since you’re so courteous…” He handed her the flask.

“Thank you.” Pressing the opening to her lips, she threw her head back and swallowed the sour alcohol. She winced and coughed, ignoring the Hound’s laugh.

“Is it too strong for such a little pretty thing like you?” he taunted, taking the flask and putting it back in an inside pocket.

“No. I’m fine, see? I’m perfectly _fucking_ fine.” She smiled tightly, facing her back against the party once more. “Excuse me. I did not mean to be rude.”

“I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.” Sandor turned around, so that they were facing the same direction. 

“Very true. I’m surprised you haven’t said anything crude about my dress yet.”

“I figured you were getting enough leers already. It’s hard to look away though. You and your legs,” he gestured clumsily.

Sansa snorted. Maybe because she was slightly drunk, maybe because she was wearing an extremely short dress in the middle of December, or maybe because she was laughing and joking with Sandor Clegane of all people. 

They stood quietly for a few minutes, the cacophony of the party drifting outside. “There’s one thing I don’t get about California,” Sansa sighed a few minutes later.

“What’s that, Little Bird?”

“How do you deal with it being so warm on Christmas? In New York it is usually always freezing if not snowing. It feels more Easter than Christmas to me. And how did the people of LA let it get so smoggy? Kids can hardly look for Rudolph, it’s too hazy. Why did they play _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_ so early this year? It doesn’t make any sense. It’s my favorite Christmas movie and I missed it.” Sansa turned up to the tall man next to her. “And I am here… it just doesn’t seem fair does it?”

Sandor was silent for a few moments. “No, it does not.”

They stood outside for a few more minutes until Sansa heard Joffrey calling for her somewhere inside. She looked apologetically at Sandor, who nodded understandingly.  
The rest of the party dragged on. Most of the Lannisters were drunk and the Tyrells laughed with them, obviously sober. The party finally ended around midnight, and Sansa reached the Lannister’s mansion at around one in the morning. Once in her room, she tore off her dress, pantyhose, and shoes and flopped onto her bed. She was asleep before she could even scrub her make up off. 

…

The next morning, Sansa received a few expensive gifts from Joffrey, Cersei, and Tyrion. She smiled prettily and acted excited when Joffrey opened his presents. At breakfast she picked at her food, but avoided the coffee and bacon. She had already vomited before everyone was awake, and there was no need to do that again.

That afternoon, at Christmas dinner, she saw Sandor once more. She greeted him with a polite _Merry Christmas,_ and he nodded back. She could feel his eyes on her all night. 

Sandor stopped her when she was on the way to the bathroom. He handed her a plastic bag with a DVD in it, muttering, “Play this later.” 

“Oh… okay,” Sansa replied, confused and slipped the bag into the pocket of her cardigan without looking at it.

After the overly large banquet, when Sansa was by herself, she popped the DVD into the small television the Lannisters allowed her to have. The familiar overture of _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_ began to play and the classic Burl Ives snowman appeared on screen. She gasped and tightly clasped her fingers together. 

And for the first time in months, Sansa let herself cry.

…

Sansa was called down by Joffrey that night. She sat next to him by the fireplace as he drank and bragged of his accomplishments at UCLA to his extended family. Sansa caught Sandor’s eye from across the room. She cocked her head toward a small hallway off of the living room. Sansa excused herself and headed down the passage. She heard Sandor follow her.

She led them to a small room off of the kitchen. No one was around, the cooks had gone home and Cersei had given the maids a day off. 

“What is it, Little Bird?” Sandor grumbled, staring her down.

“I wanted to say thank you,” she answered, taking a step towards him. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”

“It was a fucking DVD, it’s not like –“

She put his grumblings to an end by pressing her lips to his. She stood on her tiptoes and wove her fingers through him. He let out a strange noise and carefully ran his thumb against her jawline. 

Sansa pulled back a few seconds later, eyes flickering towards his. They lacked the hard intensity that usually clouded them. “Thank you, Sandor. Merry Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wheee a modern holiday AU! This turned out more angsty than I wanted it to be, but you can never have enough angst.
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays fellow Sansan fans! I hope you all have a safe and happy one.


End file.
